


tunnels through the stone

by taizi



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Families of Choice, Gen, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Slice of Life, and it goes about as well as anything goes when natsume is involved, but also..., natsume protection squad, natsume week 2019, nishimura voice: im not one to half ass shenanigans, nishinatsu (bcus its my failsafe at this point), the squad takes a trip for summer break
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-05-31 12:39:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19426177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taizi/pseuds/taizi
Summary: Satoru feels a pang that, by this point, is unfortunately familiar. It lives in his chest like it’s renting an apartment there, this little wrench of pain that comes and goes every day he learns something new about Natsume.He’s like a shadow, that Natsume, or a ghost. An impression of someone that only exists when he's being watched. Otherwise he's quiet and colorless and focuses most of his energy on not taking up any more room than he has to.And then, like just now, someone says something that lights him up. The grays and the shadows wash out to warm living colors, silver-moss hair and forest-green eyes, and he’s so lovely and so human it more than makes up for those moments before.





	1. tunnels through the stone

**Author's Note:**

> there are [tunnels through the stone](https://youtu.be/R-CLnXd6Fyw)  
> where weaker hearts have made a home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 1; color

It happens, like so many other important conversations in their lives, by accident. 

A lunch period, the room busy and hectic around them as classmates come and go. Taki, Tanuma and Kitamoto all clustered in chairs around Satoru and Natsume’s desks. They’re making plans for the upcoming summer break, tossing around ideas of where they might adventure off to. 

“We should take a vacation together, just the five of us,” Kitamoto suggests. His father’s doing a lot better these days, well enough that his family might be moving out of the apartment soon and back into their house, and the absence of worry is a good look on him. 

A vacation is just what he needs, Satoru decides, and slides a conspiring look Natsume’s way. Natsume meets it with knowing green eyes, and they’re decided. 

“We definitely should,” Satoru announces, leaning over to steal a croquette out of Tanuma’s store-bought lunch box. “We haven’t gone anywhere in ages.” 

“Someplace in the city?” Tanuma asks. He looks long-suffering, because he’d _offered_ Satoru a croquette five minutes ago, but Satoru hadn’t wanted one then. “Or the country?”

“The city, obviously,” Kitamoto says. “We’ve got all the country we can stomach right here.”

Taki suggests having them all over to her house the next day so they can look over some of the brochures that her brother brought back from his most recent trip, when Natsume pipes up.

“I can’t come tomorrow,” he says with an apologetic smile. “It’s my birthday, and Touko-san wants to have cake.”

Even _Tsuji_ turns around, and he's three desks away. Satoru, reclined on the two back legs of his chair, lets it fall flat again with a slam. Taki and Tanuma are staring openly, and Kitamoto poses the only question there is: 

“Natsume, what the _hell?”_

Natsume looks baffled by them, and the _worst part_ is that he means it. “What? What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong,” Taki parrots in despair. She lets her face fall into her hands, as though she has no strength left to hold her head up. _“What’s wrong."_

“How am I supposed to find you a birthday gift by tomorrow?” Satoru barely manages not to shout. “It’s-- _tomorrow!”_

“Let’s go shopping after school,” Tanuma says fretfully. He digs in his pocket for his phone. “We can go to Shibata’s house. There’s _tons_ of stores up there. I’ll email him.”

“Natsume, you’re not invited, as punishment,” Taki says. “And also because obviously you can’t be there while we’re shopping for your presents.”

“Email Ogata, too,” Kitamoto suggests. “She’ll be furious if we leave her out of the loop. No, I’ll do it, hold on.” 

Natsume looks alarmed by how much has happened in the last ten seconds. His eyes are wide and uncertain, hands hovering halfway out as though he’d stop them if he had any idea how to. 

“You-- you _really_ don’t have to go to any trouble. I wasn’t expecting anything from you, so you don’t need to feel obligated.”

Tsuji has given up the pretense of not being invested in the conversation. He wanders over, a worried frown on his face, and says, “If there’s a reason you don’t want to celebrate your birthday, I’ll make them leave you alone.”

That draws everyone up short. Tanuma looks up from his phone with a nearly panicked expression, clearly having already sent his email. Somehow it didn’t occur to any of them that there might have been a _reason_. 

“No, it’s,” Natsume stammers, with the evident confusion of someone who suddenly has to explain a concept they assumed was common knowledge and doesn’t have any idea of where to start. “It’s just, I don’t usually do anything special. I-- I moved around a lot, until now, and-- Touko-san and Shigeru-san are the first ones who ever-- “

Tsuji softens with understanding. Satoru does his best to hold onto righteous irritation, but he can feel it slipping through his fingers despite himself. 

Taki says, in a much gentler voice than before, “You can come along if you want, Natsume, but you’re not allowed to peek at anything we buy.”

He nods, without really looking like he knows what he’s agreeing to, and Satoru feels a pang that, by this point, is unfortunately familiar. It lives in his chest like it’s renting an apartment there, this little wrench of pain that comes and goes every day he learns something new about Natsume.

“Hey,” Satoru says. His head feels like a crossword puzzle with half the numbers missing. “You haven’t even invited us to your birthday party yet.”

He’s like a shadow, that Natsume, or a ghost. An impression of someone that only exists when he's being watched. Otherwise he's quiet and colorless and focuses most of his energy on not taking up any more room than he has to. 

And then, like just now, someone says something that lights him up. The grays and the shadows wash out to warm living colors, silver-moss hair and forest-green eyes, and he’s so lovely and so human it more than makes up for those moments before. 

“I’ll ask Touko-san,” he says, directing an earnest smile toward the relative safety of his half-eaten lunch, and Satoru thinks he must be the brightest thing for _miles._

They’ll talk about the vacation later, if they even remember. Natsume’s birthday _obviously_ comes first.


	2. see where this thing goes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 2; experience

“I’m mad at you,” Ogata says to Natsume by way of hello, and follows it with a warm hug. Behind her, Shibata is seething, and looks as though a hug is the _last_ thing on his mind if Natsume dares to get within arms reach. 

“Thanks for giving us like a two minute heads up, Natsume, I can’t imagine what we would have done if you made it any _easier_ to shop for you.”

Natsume hugs Ogata back, but he looks confused. It’s basically been his default setting since lunch. 

“I’m not-- am I hard to shop for?”

“Buddy,” Kitamoto says, even putting a caring hand on Natsume’s arm. “You’re the absolute worst.”

“But you don’t even _need_ to,” Natsume starts, and then sort of loses where he’s going with it when all of his friends give him variations of the same displeased expression. Rallying, he tries again: “I’d like anything you got me, really. I can’t see how that’s _difficult.”_

“That’s exactly why!” Satoru bursts, going so far as to throw his hands in the air. “It moves the baseline. If anything we get you is already _good_ that means we have to find something _great._ The pressure is quadruple what it would have been if we were shopping for someone normal, like Tanuma. Ugh,” he adds, giving Natsume a look that is equal parts affectionate and annoyed, while Tanuma looks as though he isn’t sure whether to feel pleased or insulted. “Why do you have to be all cute about this? What did we ever do to you?”

Natsume splutters, “I am _not_ being-- “ but Taki overrides him with a clap of her hands. 

“We’re wasting valuable time here, people,” she announces. Which is true, they’ve been lingering in the food court and bickering amiably for the last ten minutes. “Natsume can’t come shopping with us, he has to wait here. Who’s keeping him company first?”

For some reason, everyone turns to Satoru. And, okay, sure, he was going to volunteer, but they don’t need to look at him like it’s _obvious._ He scowls, which their friends take for cheerful assent, and then he and Natsume are swiftly abandoned.

“Well, then,” he says disdainfully, “ _we’re_ getting pancakes and _they_ can all starve.”

“You’re all way too enthusiastic about this,” Natsume mutters, following Satoru through the crowd toward the bright display at the Hawaiian Pancake Factory. “It’s not a big deal.”

“If it’s not a big deal, then just let us do what we want,” Satoru says reasonably. “Now pick out a dessert.”

Natsume rolls his eyes, all put-out, but he steps up to the counter next to Satoru, close enough their shoulders bump. A year ago he would have jumped back at the contact with a quick _sorryIdidntmeanto_ but today their arms are a warm point of contact, and when Satoru pushes him playfully, Natsume pushes right back. 

It’s fun just being around him. Satoru would go just about anywhere if he knew Natsume would be there, too. 

It’s companionable and they never run out of things to talk about-- but the sweets don’t last them very long, even with all the extras they piled on, and Satoru wasn’t made for sitting still. 

“Come on,” he says, hopping to his feet not long after they sat down in the first place. “It’s not fair that you should have to wait here the whole time. Let’s go look around.”

“If one of our friends see us, we’re dead,” Natsume points out, following along anyway.

“ _I’m_ dead,” Satoru says. “ _You’ve_ got nothing to worry about.”

Almost immediately, they run into Ogata, who furiously whips a shopping bag behind her back as though there’s any chance Natsume could see through the opaque white plastic. She’s on the other side of the hall, and not quite rude enough to shout at them from there, so they make their escape. 

There’s another close call when Tanuma and Shibata come out of the store Satoru and Natsume were about to wander into, and at that point Satoru is beginning to wish they’d just stayed in the food court. 

“Over here,” Natsume says suddenly. He grabs Satoru’s hand, so they don’t get separated in the crowd, and leads the way unerringly around kiosks like he’s following an invisible guide. 

The store they end up in is small and tidy, carrying things like overnight bags and travel guides. Natsume forgets to let go of his hand as they step inside, and Satoru is too distracted to notice. 

“This is kind of perfect,” Satoru says, returning the clerk’s greeting as they pass the front counter. “Since we’re taking that trip soon.”

“Oh, you’re right.” Natsume’s face lights up in that really special way of his, his eyes impossibly dark and warm. “Can we go look at the maps?”

Satoru watches him sidelong as they peruse vacation destinations that are way out of the price range of a handful of high school students, studying the softness and the lightness of him, and asks, “You’re really looking forward to it, huh? Our trip, I mean.”

Natsume shrugs, but he’s smiling. “I am. I moved around a lot, before the Fujiwaras took me in, but it feels like I didn’t get to see any of those places I lived in. There must have been so many things that I missed. So it’s nice to go places with all of you, because I get the full experience, you know? And then I get to come home.”

Satoru’s heart is beating. It always is, and maybe he takes that for granted most of the time, but he _knows_ it’s beating now, because he can feel it everywhere. It’s racing, like it’s trying to run away from him and catch up to some spectacular epiphany his brain is having just around the corner. 

Natsume is right beside him, smiling down at a picture of Mt. Fuji in the travel guide, hand curled loosely around Satoru’s like he really doesn’t realize it’s still there. He’s really close and really far away at the same time, and it strikes Satoru that _that_ just isn’t _fair._

“Oi!” Kitamoto calls from the storefront, the string handles of a paper bag hanging from his hand. “You had _one job,_ Nishimura!”

“Oops,” Natsume says with a crooked grin, moving away to join the cluster of their friends outside the shop. “Guess we’re not very good at sneaking around.”

“Guess not,” Satoru parrots, watching him go. He looks down at his hand-- empty, now-- and then over at the picture of Mt. Fuji, and somewhere in between the two something on the shelf beside him catches his eye. 

That’s it, he thinks. _Perfect._

His friends are arguing cheerfully when he catches up to them, hurriedly cramming his purchase into his bag before any of them take notice. He gets a lot of flak from all sides for abandoning his post, until Tanuma points out that Natsume had a good time and that was really the whole point. 

Ogata and Shibata go home, but come back for the party on the weekend since Natsume obtained Touko’s glowing permission to invite absolutely everyone. It’s a lively affair, and the Fujiwaras are generous hosts, and Natsume has mostly shaken off his uncertainty about the whole thing by the time his friends are pressing their presents into his hands.

When Natsume unwraps the box Satoru gives him, and holds up a gleaming camera for the rest of them to admire, Satoru fidgets.

“It’s, you know,” he says. “For all the things you’re going to see.”

And sure, he’s out ten thousand yen, but a look like _that_ on Natsume’s face would have been worth triple that much. 


End file.
